


Bad Medicine

by jackiesjunkie



Category: Quantum Leap, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Original Characters - Freeform, livejournal fic, montana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9209948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackiesjunkie/pseuds/jackiesjunkie
Summary: Sam Beckett has leaped into Dean Winchester.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quantum Leap and its characters were created by Donald P. Bellisario. Supernatural and its characters were created by Joseph McGinty Nichol. This was not written for my profit.
> 
> Author's note: I grew up in an area much like the one described in this story. Bad Medicine and its legend is mostly true. I've added a few details to the actual history of the mountain and lake for the purpose of this story. 
> 
> Originally written and posted to Livejournal in 2006.
> 
>  
> 
> Play list for Bad Medicine  
> The Black Hole – Alpha 33  
> Imzadi 1 – Alpha 33  
> Wanted Dead or Alive – Bon Jovi  
> Bad Medicine – Bon Jovi  
> Back into Hell – Meatloaf  
> Live and Let Die – Guns 'n' Roses  
> Theme from Armageddon – Trevor Rabin  
> Sonata op.27 no.2 “Moonlight” 1st movement – Beethoven

Dr. Sam Beckett smiled as the familiar tingle began to rush through his body. Another wrong had been put right. The next thing he knew, he was crouched by the side of the road next to a dusty black 1967 Chevrolet Impala. A tire iron and a flat tire lay beside him. He quickly glanced around, trying to discover where and when he was. Unfortunately, there was nothing on the deserted stretch of highway to give him any clue. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Jeez, Dean, how long does it take to change a tire?” a voice called out from behind him. A young man with dark hair emerged from the woods.

 

Sam grabbed the flat tire and dropped it into the trunk. He glanced around again, wondering where Al was. “Uh, just finished.”

 

The young man shot him a curious look. “You feeling ok, Dean?”

 

“I'm fine. I'm just a little tired. Why don't you drive for a while?”

 

He shrugged. “Ok, if you say so.” The young man walked around to the driver's side of the car and slid behind the wheel.

 

Sam sighed as he closed the trunk. As he dropped into the passenger seat, he faked a yawn. “I think I'll try to get a little sleep.” He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. He had nearly dozed off when he heard a familiar voice.

 

“Nice car. I always liked this model.”

 

Sam grunted in reply.

 

Al quickly rattled off the information he had gotten from Ziggy. “Your name is Dean Winchester and you are from Lawrence, Kansas. Your father John disappeared about a year ago, your mother Mary died when you were a kid. The guy driving is your younger brother Sam.”

 

“Sam?” he muttered. He had actually leaped into someone with a brother who had the same name as him.

 

“You say something, Dean?”

 

Sam mentally kicked himself. “Mind if I turn on the radio?”

 

“Go ahead. We should be in Troy in about an hour.”

 

He switched on the radio, twisting the dial until he found a station playing classic rock music. Nonchalantly, he glanced around to look back at Al.

 

“Apparently, Dean and Sam are following in their father's footsteps and are hunting...” He smacked the hand link in annoyance. “You hunt supernatural entities. Ghosts, banshees, evil spirits, etc.” Al looked around nervously. “I'll, uh, I'll see what else Ziggy can tell me about why you're here.” In an instant, he was gone.

 

Al's words echoed in Sam's mind. They hunted evil spirits? “Oh boy,” he whispered.

 

Later that day, they had settled into a room in the small town motel. It wasn't much but it was clean and it had internet access. Sam decided to take a short walk around outside as Sammy did a little research on the computer. He stopped to look through a rack of postcards outside the office when one caught his eye. It was quite the picturesque scene. A calm lake, mountains and a rugged rock formation at the apex. He turned it over to read what was on the back.

 

Bad Medicine – local campground with a history tied to a Native American tragedy.

 

 

“Do you know why they call it Bad Medicine?”

 

Sam turned around to see an old woman in a rocking chair on the end of the porch in front of the office. “No, I don't.”

 

“Sit down, young man. I'll tell you about it.” She held out her hand toward a chair beside her. When Sam was seated, she continued. “My name is Flora Barnett,” she said with a smile. “About 200 years ago, there was an earthquake and a terrible landslide up by the lake. An Indian village was destroyed, everyone there was killed. The only person who survived was a lovely young woman who had been out foraging for berries. She returned to find her children and husband dead. They say she wandered the hills crying to the gods for their spirits until she went crazy. No one would go near the area. The natives felt the gods had cursed the village and that's why it was destroyed. There was bad medicine there as they would say.”

 

“That's how it got the name?” he asked.

 

She nodded. “Some people think the area is still haunted by the spirits of the woman and the villagers. Any time there is an unexplained death in the woods up there or a drowning in the lake, they blame her.”

 

“Have there been many people who died up there since then?”

 

“A few,” she admitted. “But some have been saved by the children.”

 

Sam looked puzzled. “What children?”

 

A knowing smile crossed her face. “Last summer, a young man nearly drown in the lake. Someone pulled him out but he swears there was no one around. It's not the first time something like that has happened. They say the spirits of the woman's children don't want any more people to die.”

 

Sam leaned back in his chair. “Wow, that's an interesting story. I'll have to tell it to my brother.” He stood and smiled at the old woman. “I should be going.”

 

“Be careful, young man,” she said as she raised a finger in warning. “If you see the lights on the hills, leave immediately. They are a sign of death. One light for each soul. Heed my warning.”

 

He raised an eyebrow but only nodded. “Uh, thanks. I'll be careful.” He turned to go back to the room to see if Sammy had turned up any useful information when he nearly walked through Al. “Can't you let me know when you're here?” he hissed.

 

“Sorry, Sam. It's not like I can tap you on the shoulder,” he said as he fell in step beside him.

 

“So has Ziggy been able to find out why I'm here?”

 

“There's a 68% chance that you're here to keep Dean and Sam alive. The first time around, Dean was killed up near Bad Medicine. The car was found at the old campground a few days after it happened. Sam disappeared without a trace. Gushie is still trying to find out if there is any more information on him.”

 

Sam paused. “Who's Gushie?”

 

“Little guy, bad breath,” Al reminded him. “Your brain gets swiss cheesed after each leap. Anyway, the local police department ruled it an animal attack but they didn't know for sure what really happened.”

 

Sam pondered the old woman's warning in light of Al's news. He frowned as he walked back into the room where he found Sammy staring at the computer screen.

 

“Find out anything interesting?” he asked as he turned to face Sam.

 

Sam dropped onto the bed and recounted the tale that the old woman had shared with him. “So what do you think?”

 

Sammy thought for a few minutes before answering. “Sounds like it could be a vengeful ghost.” He got up and began digging through his duffel bag. “I think it's time for Thomas Dougherty and Marcus O'Connor to make another appearance,” he said as he tossed one of the fake ID cards to Sam.

 

“Fish and Game?”

 

Sammy shrugged. “Sure why not? There's the lake, the woods, plenty of areas that we can say we're checking out.”

 

Sam tucked the ID card into his wallet and followed the younger man out to the car. Half an hour later, they were winding their way up the dirt road that led to the old campground below Bad Medicine. They passed a couple of hikers but since it was the middle of the week, the area was practically deserted. Sam pulled the Impala off the road when they reached the gate blocking the side road to the campground. He walked around to the front of the car while Sammy was unloading their equipment from the trunk. He gazed up at the mountain as a cold, prickly feeling clawed its way up his spine.

 

Sam shouldered his bag and half turned toward Sammy who said with a smirk, “Let's go hunting.”

 

The campground had long been abandoned for the newer site down at the lake's edge. Several paths led into the woods, most were mere game trails now. Sam began walking around the perimeter of the clearing to see if he could get any type of reading on the EMF meter. As he approached the path leading up the hill, he called Sammy over. “There's definitely something hanging around here.” They started up the slope, keeping a lookout for anything out of the ordinary. The trees were swaying in the gentle but silent breeze. The higher they climbed, the quieter things became. Eventually, they reached a semi-flat clear cut.

 

“Dean? Have you noticed that we haven't seen so much as a squirrel or a bird since we got here?” Sammy asked.

 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, kinda weird. You'd think there would be some sort of animals running around.” He frowned as the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Cautiously, he began to look around. After a moment, he thought he could hear something in the woods above them. It sounded almost like a woman crying. He slowly began to make his way up toward the area where the noise was coming from.

 

Sammy followed a few steps behind his brother. He ducked under a low hanging branch and when he straightened up, he stopped cold. “Dean, I see her.” He pointed at the base of a large Ponderosa pine where a dark haired woman sat with her head bowed. When the woman raised her head to stare at the pair, he wasn't entirely surprised when her skin was transparent. They had found the ghost they had been seeking.

 

The ghost's face contorted in rage at the sight of the two men. With a shriek, she flew at them.

 

Sam dropped to the ground just before she reached him. He looked back to see that Sammy had done the same. They scrambled to close the gap between them. “I don't think she likes us being here,” Sam said as he searched the woods for the ghost.

 

“What gave you that idea?” Sammy asked sarcastically as he dug around in his backpack for an appropriate weapon. When he felt Dean's hand grip his arm, he shot him a questioning look. “What?”

 

“Do you see that?”

 

He turned to look in the direction his older brother was pointing. In the distance, a pair of lights bobbed in the gloom. “It's a little early to need flashlights.” His voice was a little uncertain. Both of them remembered the story Flora had told Sam earlier. “After all the weird stuff we've been through, I'm not going to let one ghost get the better of me.”

 

Sam nodded. “Let's get this over with then.”

 

The ghost was floating a few feet above the ground. Sammy aimed the sawed off shotgun at the ghost and fired a round of salt at it. The ghost dissipated with a high pitched scream. “If that thing has any bones left around here, we need to find them and burn them, Dean! It's the only way to stop it.”

 

The pair began to search the area in hopes of finding some trace of the woman's remains. Sammy was making his way through a grove of cedar trees when he paused. He could smell something. It was the same smell that filled the air just before a rain storm. Ozone. He turned around to see a small group of children standing in front of one of the largest trees. They parted to reveal a gaping wound in the trunk of the tree. He rushed over and crawled through the gap. Spiderwebs clung to his face as he wormed his way through the exposed roots.

 

When he felt rotting leather and bones under his hand, he grabbed them and scooted back out of the opening. “Dean! Over here!” He hadn't even gotten to his feet when he was flung against the tree. He hit the ground with a groan. The ghost flew at him again.

 

Sam shouted and ran toward the spirit, trying to draw it's attention. It hissed and sped toward him. He dove toward the backpack on the ground and quickly dug out a road flare. With a twist of his wrist, he ignited the flare and tossed it onto the pile of bones.

 

As the physical remains were consumed by the fire, the ghost let out one last shrill scream before fading into oblivion.

 

“You ok?” he asked as he helped the younger man to his feet.

 

“Yeah, I'll probably have a few bruises but nothing that'll kill me.”

 

The two men waited for the fire to die down before they left. They didn't want to be responsible for starting a forest fire. When all traces of the body was gone, they hiked back down to the Impala and headed back to the motel.

 

Sam stopped in the office to pay their bill before they took off. He noticed a picture hanging on the wall near the cash register. “Isn't that Flora Barnett?” he asked the man behind the desk.

 

He glanced at the picture and said with a smile, “Yep, that's Grandma Flora. Died about 20 years ago. She lived here all her life. Everyone called her Grandma. Didn't know you knew her.”

Sam grinned uneasily. “I met her once.” With a wave, he stepped outside and headed toward the car. He got in the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot.

 

“Hey, Dean. Thanks for what you did up there.”

 

Sam smiled. “That's what brothers are for. We take care of each other.” Seeing Sammy's smile, he felt the familiar tingle shoot through his body again.


End file.
